Disturbed
by Wolf Princess
Summary: A streak of unsolvable murders roar across New York. Three detectives are sent to the case, but how do all the murders relate? And why do I feel like I'm being followed? And what does all this have to do with a dead guy?


CH. 1

Randy McCalister was a very bright young lad, working for the 37th precinct in New York. It was only his fifth assignment within the 6 months he had been working with his two partners after moving to the Big Apple from Florida. But no matter how he looked at the crime scene before him, the young detective couldn't figure it out.

For the past hour, Randy had been examining the home of Al Parkinson, one of the richest men in New York City. He stood before the tape outline of where Mr. Parkinson's body was found, lying on the floor beside his desk, the fallen black leather computer chair lying next to the white lined figure.

"Find anything?" McCalister turned around as one of his partners walked in the doorway. Tammy Evet was her name. Beautiful and intelligent. She was not one to be trifled with and knew how to take care of herself from being around as a teen. She always showed her outer beauty, never wearing makeup –she didn't need it. Her lips gave a natural pink tint and her face radiated from the small amount of sunlight pouring in from the large window of the third floor of the mansion. Walking over to Randy, her hands in the pockets of her tan colored trench coat, Tammy's eyes examined the room, and then locked with Randy's dark chocolate orbs filled with wonderment and confusion.

"Not a single clue." Randy reverted his attention to the outline and the enormous bloodstain in and around the area of the head. "It's the strangest thing." His eyes furrowed. "A murder is committed, but I can't seem to find a single piece of evidence to help solve the case." He brushed back his light brown hair and continued to look at the contour.

"There has to be something." Tammy stood beside her friend. "There's no way someone can get inside this heavily guarded house, shoot Mr. Parkinson and leave without leaving some kind of clue."

"I believe the same thing, but no matter how much I look, I just can't find anything."

"Excuse me, detective McCalister?" A young uniformed officer peered inside the room and looked to the two detectives.

"Yes." Randy and Tammy both looked back at the tall, pale officer with fire red hair.

"Detective Laytner said he found something quite interesting and would like you to give your opinion."

"Sure thing. We're on our way." Randy took one last look at the outline then made his way out of the den, following the officer. Tammy followed shortly behind.

Skye Laytner, a hardcore detective, was knelt down at the front door of the overgrown house, rubbing some white chalky stuff between his rubbered hands. He had grown up without a family and loves proving things using his gun and/or fists. He had it very rough as a child, living under the care of a woman who could care less about him. Eventually he ran off and resorted to stealing to get by. No one quite knows his reason for joining the police force –he never thought anyone was close enough to know about his past, not even the chief of his department.

"What's up?" Skye looked back then stood up, making his way to his comrades. He took off his gloves and threw them in a plastic bin against the cream colored walls.

"I found some kind of white powdered residue beneath the main door where the culprit entered." Skye's eyes were dark, always looking so serious yet so calm at the same time. Most people found it a bit difficult to look him in the eyes without feeling a sense of fear rush through his or her body. "I examined the powder, and it looks like plastic, but I'm not positive."

"Well, let's make sure some of it gets sent to the lab." Randy suggested.

"Already done. The boys in blue took a sample over just a few minutes ago." Skye looked at his watch. "It's 1 o'clock. I say we take a break for lunch and talk this case over."

"I agree." Tammy nodded.

"This case has got me completely baffled." Randy added, agreeing with Skye's idea.

"In that case, we may need a longer lunch than usual."

"Come on Skye, you know very well that the chief will have a fit if we take up more time." Skye just looked at Tammy, a smirk stretching across his face.

"The old badger can get over himself. It's not like we're not going to do anything. We're simply going to take some time and evaluate the evidence."

"What evidence?" Randy half smiled. "We have none, except the residue you found and the idea of what happened."

"That's all we need." Skye's eyes glanced out the front door into the bright sunlight. "Come on, we need a break. It'll only be an hour and a half at tops. Promise." He took his pointer finger and made the signs for 'cross my heart' across his chest.

"Oh all right." Tammy gave in. Skye had this uncanny way of getting his way by never shutting up until it happened. That's one thing he had a knack for –always getting what he wanted either by force or permission.

"That's what I'm talking about." Skye smiled his mischievous and happy grin and placed his arm around Tammy's shoulder. Nonchalantly, Tammy gently took his arm off, brushed her golden blonde bangs out of her face and walked out the front door.

"Come on. We haven't got all day." She waved them on, keeping her back to the two as she continued to walk to the black Buick outside.

"That was downright cold." Skye mumbled.

"Come on. You know she's not interested in a relationship." Randy patted his shoulder.

"Who said I was looking to get in one with her?" Skye returned to his cool, collected posture. "I was just being friendly."

"Yeah sure. Whatever you say." Randy smiled as he followed Skye outside where their partner was waiting.

Inside of the Chinese Buffet, where the trio normally went for lunch, the detectives looked over the case file as they ate. Tammy had always been a fan of oriental food and ultimately got her partners hooked on it too. The restaurant was full with people of many different cultures. One group in particular was an Asian family consisting of two young boys and their parents sitting at the table beside the three. They spoke in their native tongue, but kept glancing at the agents as they ate.

"The cause of death was a single bullet wound to the head." Randy read the analysis paper in the blue folder with all the information as he placed sweet and sour chicken in his mouth using chopsticks. The Asian parents didn't seem to like the conversation they were overhearing when their children started throwing food at one another, playing cops and robbers. They sternly told them to stop, smacking their hands.

"The bullet found in Mr. Parkinson's head belonged to a Browning 380." Skye read, taking the folder from Randy, holding it in both palms.

"Without any clues as to who the murderer was..."

"Not to mention he had no family." Skye interrupted Tammy, who glared at him menacingly then continued what she was going to say.

"We'll have to go to a gun dealer and get a list of all the buyers of a Browning 380." Randy thought over Tammy's idea as he swallowed another piece of chicken.

"Can you go and do that today?" He asked Tammy, who had just put noodles in her mouth. She looked to Randy and swallowed forcefully.

"No problem, but what about you guys?" She pointed to the two with her chopsticks held perfectly in her right hand.

"Skye can head over to the lab and check out the results of that white residue he found earlier." Skye nodded in acknowledgement, stuffing shrimp pasta in his mouth. "And I'll head back over to the crime scene and continue to look. I had to have missed something." Randy looked down at his plate as he thought of the case. Tammy put more noodles in her mouth as she looked to Skye, who just shrugged.

"Well," Skye pushed his plate in the middle of the table, showing he was done eating. "We better get going."

"Yeah." Randy dug out his wallet from his back pocket and placed a twenty on the table. He and his partners stood up, pushing their chairs in and headed out the door. The Parents at the table beside them held their hands up in thanks before smacking the boys hands once again when the eldest threw a piece of beef at his brother.

On the corner of Charleston and Bennett, Tammy looked up at the sign hanging from a small rundown looking building. It read "Guns Centro". There didn't seem to be very many people out today –only a few past her and one completely covered body in a black slicker watched her from the other side of the street. The persons black hat shadowed his face. Clutching her overcoat around her neck to protect her from the cold autumn breeze that blew, the female detective made her way inside.

Once inside, she let go and loosened her coat, skimming the inside of the store. Taking off her gloves and placing them in her pocket, Tammy slowly made her way to the front counter, her eyes skimming over everything on the shelves and hanging from the walls.

A large, burly man covered in tattoos and piercings up the side of his ears eyed the possible customer with his beady eyes.

"Can I help you miss?" His voice seemed to boom in the small building, as he addressed the cop.

"Yes." Tammy now hastened her strides, pulling something from her pocket. "I'm Detective Evet from the 37th precinct downtown." She held up her silver badge with her picture id above it and showed it to the shop tender.

"Whatever it is I didn't do it." The man blurted, picking up the gun sitting on the glass showcase in front of him and began polishing it with the dirty old rag in his hand.

"I'm not here to bust you for anything, but if there's something I should know, do tell me." Tammy glared at the somewhat frightened guy before her. "So, what's your name?" She put her badge away, still keeping eye contact.

"Mac."

"Well Mac. How many Browning 380s have you sold in the past year?"

"Probably around 6 give or take a few." Mac continued to polish the rifle in his hands. "Brownings aren't very popular these days."

"Can I get a list of the people who bought them from you? I need their names and addresses."

"Uh...sure." Mac placed down the long rifle and went to the catalogue of buyers on the small desk in the corner of the store behind him. Tammy watched as Mac kept glancing back at her nervously. She could tell something was wrong and her eyes seemed to narrow as she watched his every move.

Carrying a piece of paper in his hands, Mac made his way back to the fed and handed it to her. "Here. These are all of them."

Tammy skimmed down the list of eight people. "Thank you for your corporation." She smiled graciously, folded the list and placed it in her pants pocket, revealing the black revolver hidden beneath her coat. Mac glanced down at it then back up at the woman. "I'll keep in touch." Smiling, Tammy turned and made her way to the glass doors, pulling her gloves back on before exiting into the cool air.

"What?" Skye looked at the scientist with an indignant look. He was standing behind the short chubby old man, leaning over him as the white haired senior sat at his lab top, looking through a microscope.

"The substance you sent to me is Bakelite also known as phenolic resin. But you may know it as Catalin." Dr. Kinburn, as read off his nametag, looked up at the Detective.

"And what exactly is this Bakelite stuff used for?" Skye cocked an eyebrow. He had never heard of such a thing before.

"Let's see," Dr. Kinburn rolled over to his computer and began typing away. "I know you can find this stuff in some types of jewelry and kitchen flatware, but let's see what else it's used for." Sitting in the lit laboratory, Kinburn searched for the substance in his specialized search engine. His glasses reflected the images from the computer as he looked it over. All the while, Skye never moved from his position, however, he now stood next to the scientist since he had moved down. "How interesting." Kinburn smiled in satisfaction.

"What is it?" Skye moved in closer and began skimming over the words and photographs on the doctors' screen impatiently.

"Bakelite is also used as a cover for bowling alleys as well as electric and automobile insulators."

"Oh boy. This really narrows it down." Skye pushed off the tabletop he had been leaning on in agitation and rubbed his hands through his black hair. "Everybody can be a suspect." He pursed his lips, trying to hold back words that threatened to break free as he paced back and forth behind the doctor, fuming.

"Detective, you can omit one or two of these easily." Kinburn turned around in his chair to face the cop, taking off his glasses.

"How?" Kinburn had definitely caught the attention of the impatient detective. Skye quickly found his place once more beside the professor, this time earnest as to what he had to say.

Randy was once again examining the crime scene, standing in the room where the murder took place. Walking in circles around the room, he examined every nook and cranny he saw. He had just walked past the trashcan beside the desk when something shiny caught his attention.

"What's this?" Kneeling down, he reached out with his gloved hand and picked up a small shiny metal object the size of a pebble. Examining the newfound evidence closely, his eyes moved around in quick jolts as he perused the unknown object. Smiling with bliss, Randy placed the item inside a plastic tube and closed it tightly, sliding it into his coat pocket.

Standing up, Randy's senses skyrocketed and his body came to an abrupt halt in mid-stand. _What was that noise? _A small clang echoed in the empty house. When Randy returned after lunch not to long ago, the uniformed officers were clearing out. He had been told they were ordered to leave and that they wouldn't return till mid-day the next sunrise. He didn't understand why, but didn't question the matter. So, Randy knew very well that no one should be in the three-story estate, which made the sudden thud of something or someone a bit contentious.

Slowly making his way to the doorway, the young P.I. agent withdrew his revolver and held it in front of his body with both hands as he stepped so carefully across the room, ready for anything.


End file.
